Scholar Poet Warrior Son
by Erugenel
Summary: The many faces of Faramir Son of Denethor... Scholar, Poet, WArrior, Son


**NOTE: Just to let you all know, this was done during the holidays, so don't get your hopes high on any regular updating for the moment. And I am also suffering from a sever bout of writer's block, but I will do my utmost to get the chapters in.**

**This is about Faramir, son of Denethor son of Etchelion. I hope I have done his complex character justice.**

**DISCLAIMER: Not Conceived by me but Written for the greater good. **

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**SCHOLAR, POET, WARRIOR, SON**

In archives deep within the walls

Buried under tomes of lore

Ancient knowledge he searches for

Facts undiscovered, he yearns for more

And when the day is almost gone

Wearily he stands and runs

Back to the palace where lyres thrum

Of a lordly princedom he desires none

For his heart is humble and pure and just

Of absolute power there is no lust

And untainted is his goodwill and compassion by rust

Scholar, Poet, Warrior, Son

And when the day has broken clear

The scholar wakes with his books near

But sire's eyes had held no love

As he had craved as the younger son

Only the elder took the part

Of daring rouge, of royal tart

Of bravest captain and loyal dart

And so as he was pushed aside

The heart that was within him cried

For love that was to him denied

Scholar, Poet, Warrior, Son

His eloquence is matched by none

Poetic are his words when sung

He knows of pain, he knows of fear

Yet his voice still rings out in cheer

And when he sits by clear cold stream

Fluidly from his mouth they spring

To pen and paper offering

His words which he dictates by hand

And when he hears a whisper stand

Upon his mind, upon his land

He writes as furiously as only he can

Scholar, Poet, Warrior, Son

He has made the ladies swoon

With fair words under light of moon

But he'd woo them not, for his courage waning

When their with their high voices complaining

Of elder brother's affections never attaining

Through his him knows they might gain a chance

To win brother's heart, his title, his glance

So the poet's words are wasted again

Upon some daft unworthy dame

Leaving him mortified in heart and name

He waited until his turn came:

Scholar, Poet, Warrior, Son

Of violence he utterly abhors

As he fights enemies by the scores

And holding his blade aloft he catches

A flash of light, a flash of steel

He loves not what the battle may bring

But what he protects, and so he is bold

As he fights his foes f old

Evil which would make the blood run cold

And as the dark crept over the light

And bred the foul broil of evil night

So he grew in stature and might

Scholar, Poet, Warrior, Son

His father mistook his hate of bloodshed

For weakness. And he forced him so

To leave his home and fight the foe

And so to wooded country he went

As patrolling ranger his days were spent

He became a captain brave and strong

Out in the wilderness for so long

And he earned the love of his men

They would follow and fight like true friends

They he could master and the beasts of fen

The Scholar, Poet, Warrior, Son

But father's eyes were still unloving

To a son who was so worthy

And so he pushed himself to master

Whatever he thought would bring his father

To nod with approval, to smile with pride

"But it was never so" he sighed

For when his mother ad given him birth

She sickened soon after and left the earth

Husband, sons and lands around grieved

For the Lady who had come from the sea

And his father had loved her so

But it hurt too much too let it go

In younger son's face he saw a likeness

Of his beloved wife, the face of brightness

And so insane with grief and longing

He never looked on him as one of his own

And such was the torment that followed for

The Scholar, Poet, Warrior, Son

When the city was under threat

He ordered him to ride to certain death

And when he returned mortally wounded

He had cried, "My line has ended!"

"Prepare to burn me on the pyre"

"There is no hope now, nothing matters

They had almost set a fire to his flesh

When loyal guard sprang up at last

He slew the man who held the fire

And seized the captain from the pyre

And so by fealty his life was not dire

The faithful captain, the loyal son

He strode about the wards of healing

Wounds a closing, strength returning

Of father's death by fire learning

Mourning deeply, for him yearning

But as he was walking about

A sight of beauty calmed the rout

Within his heart, within his mind,

Within his lordly frame defined

She was pale and bitter as the blade she bore

Yet beautiful and slender as the white dress she wore

When she turned her gaze on him

Her sorrow would make his head swim

And he then knew his chances were slim,

The Scholar, Poet, Warrior, Son

He loved her much, for that he was certain,

But hid it behind a velvet curtain

For her heart was with yonder king

Victorious lord with glory shining

But he had a queen of beauty radiant

So he watched her despair as she fought life with defiance

He sought to tell her his heart was true

With a Starry Mantle of Midnight Blue

She smiled a little, and he mused a space

He said, "She has a lovely face"

"Life indeed will lend her grace"

The Lady to which his heart had gone

He made her laugh, he made her smile

And soon she realized a while

That she had never loved a man more

Than the one who had returned her heart before

She saw a trail of flowers soft

Under stars in sky aloft

She followed petals, she followed scent

She was led hither incandescent

She told him that her heart was true

He laughed for joy as sorrows flew

For with her around no more they knew

The Scholar, Poet, Warrior, Son


End file.
